Adelaide vs Mary Sue
by lilBlueDragon
Summary: ONE-SHOT. Middle Earth's favorite tween goes head to head with a teenage rival. Rated for BAD language!


Adelaide vs. Mary Sue

**A humorous one-shot of the Fellowship's favorite tween facing down a rival. Not very well-written, but I was sorely tempted, and gave in. Set during a random period in Adelaide's adventures in Middle Earth, but after Adelaide's completed college and given birth to Samwise Gamgee Baggins, her first kid by hubby Frodo (if you haven't read the Adelaide trilogy yet, it's probably a good idea to do that before reading this fic). She's also got a job in the real world as a kindergarten teacher, which may explain why she gets so pissed off at the Mary Sue. (Anyone who has ever worked with kids can back me up!) **

* * *

Adelaide and Eowyn sat on a bed, chins in their hands, listening morosely to the sounds from downstairs.

"Has she shut up, yet?" Eowyn asked.

"No. I wish your Uncle would put duct tape over her mouth. And for God's sakes, I thought Eomer had more sense than to believe all that bullshit about 'natural born warrior'."

Eowyn winced as an unnaturally sweet voice floated upwards.

"…born during a thunderstorm, so my parents call me Storm. I'm a black belt in every known form of martial arts, and I have an uncle who taught me how to use swords and daggers from the time I was four years old…"

Adelaide winced. "Well, my uncle runs a wildlife refuge in Montana…and he hunts moose."

"…be grateful to hold a ball here, I'm also a fashion designer, and I sing and dance, since I was taught by traveling gypsies during my trip to Italy…"

"I got robbed when I went to Europe," Adelaide said glumly.

"…may I see the horse stables? I simply adore horses, and I understand that you have a beauty named Shadowfax…do not wonder! For am I not an expert in Tolkienology? I studied all the Elven languages and Mr. Tolkien's writing methods, and I got to visit his grave while on a singing tour in England; I was so honored to sing at Oxford, where he taught…"

"Tolkienology? Is that even a word?"

"She's making me sick," Eowyn declared. "I'm afraid of escorting her anywhere. She's as tall as an Elf queen, with hair more golden and shining than Lady Galadriel's, with eyes and skin more fair than Luthien's, and the bearing of a warrior empress—"

"Oh, knock it off! Now you're making me sick," Adelaide snorted. "I suppose she's got a higher sex appeal than Rosie Cotton, too."

The voice continued to gab. "…just came from a visit in the Shire, they love me so much. Frodo Baggins and I are engaged to be married, although he had to fight off half the male population, and Merry and Pippin have sworn their services to me—"

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Adelaide shrieked. Eowyn tackled her friend and held her down.

"It's okay! Don't worry! Adelaide, relax! She won't stick around long! Aragorn is sure to chase her out, and Gandalf will help him—"

The voice clucked along. "…Aragorn is such a darling man; he has given me leave to join the Rangers in their quest to protect the Shire, though he takes me often to trips into Rivendell, where Arwen and I sit and sew the most beautiful clothes known in Middle Earth. Gandalf, of course, finds me charming and lovely, and when I stood at the base of Orthanc and made lighting fall from the sky, he agreed to teach me the ways of the Istari, for am I not destined to become so?"

"That's it," Adelaide growled. "I've had it."

She marched down the stairs, Eowyn following close behind (she didn't want to miss this for all the mithril in Moria!). Adelaide stalked out into the Golden Hall, where King Theoden sat frozen to his throne, eyes glued to the strikingly beautiful figure in front of him, standing as regal as an empress. Adelaide wrinkled her nose. The young woman was younger than her, perhaps about high-school age, with sparkling green eyes and a mass of shining hair that rippled down her back like a golden waterfall. Her skin was unblemished with a porcelain hue, and her lips, hips, bust, and ass were full and curvaceous (which explained why Eomer was standing directly beside her, drooling). She wore a lovely white gown of the softest silk, but a jewel-encrusted belt was at her side, as well as an Elven-carved scabbard and a sword that was more than likely made by Elves, as well. The young lady was shining, although Adelaide couldn't figure out where the light was coming from.

"Oi! Goldy!" she snapped. "Where's your passport?"

The young woman turned slowly, gracefully, and cast her eyes upon the tween in a very condescending manner.

"Who are you, lady, and what right have you to stand there and challenge me like that?"

"I'm not challenging; I'm threatening. Get back to Sweet Valley High and fawn over the football quarterback, you nit."

"He dumped me for the school geek," the blonde said hotly. "I've come here to fulfill my destiny as the 10th Walker of the Fellowship, and so marry the Ringbearer, and have affairs with every single Elf along the way."

"You could get HIV from that, ya know."

"I am immune. Legolas promised me that I should be." The blonde tossed her head. Adelaide frowned. Why did it seem as though her hair blew back from her face in that "Xena Princess Warrior" look? It was cheesy.

"Legolas doesn't know jack shit about mortal diseases," Adelaide snapped. "As for you, you probably have a whole crate of condoms."

"Never!" the blonde insisted. "For it is also my destiny to bear children into this land, who will become great warriors and Elven princesses. I shall be a Mother of the Land, and my fame will spread far and wide!"

"And you think it's going to happen if you marry MY Frodo. Excuse me, honey, but he's in love with me."

"You?" It was maddening, the way this girl laughed! "My dearest Adelaide—"

"AWRIGHT, MAYBE YOU'D LIKE TO TELL ME YOUR NAME?"

"I am Selena Storm Maia, fairest of those who are descended from Luthien—"

"Descended from Luthien? You're a high-school pop-tart from the USA," Adelaide said in disgust.

"Yes!" sighed the girl, oblivious to the other young woman's rant. "For am I not a dear fan of Mr. Tolkien? I've read all his works, studied them in depth, and have the deepest crush on his characters, particularly Legolas."

"Then why are you chasing Frodo around?"

"Because he is the Ringbearer, and essential to my status as the Darling of Middle Earth."

"Excuse me, but this is not American Idol, and this is NOT a Miss USA contest," Adelaide snapped. "Now why don't you enroll in a USA Beauty Pageant and leave Middle Earth alone? I know this is such a girl line, but…Frodo's mine, honey. Go get your own."

"I am sorry, but he has dropped you in favor of my shining beauty, my home-making skills which far surpass your own, and my bravery in battle. Have you not said, and I quote, 'I was scared shitless the entire time' during the battle on the Pelennor Fields?"

"I WAS scared shitless, and some of my bravest friends sympathized with me."

"But you cannot deny that you cannot spin or weave."

"I don't deny it at all. I suck at it."

"And you have not the beauty that I possess, which far outweighs even Arwen Evenstar's glory, and Lady Galadriel's radiance! Haldir worships me, and Elrond thinks I'm cute!"

Eowyn scowled. "I'll knock her lights out, if you wish," she began, but Adelaide made a face and shook her head.

"She'd probably beat you. She's Miss Perfect, remember?"

Eowyn clenched her fists and muttered numerous four-lettered words. Adelaide turned back around to face Selena Storm Maia, the Fairest of Those Descended from Luthien (aka, the high-school pop-tart), who coolly threw back her Elven cape with a familiar Elven brooch, and laid a hand on her sword hilt. Fire flashed in her eyes, and Adelaide nearly threw up.

"Look," she said, opting for logical reason. "You can't KNOW that you're destined to do any of the things you talked about."

"I can if I am the Darling of Middle Earth—which I am! Everyone loves me; even the orcs wish to rape me. Sauron desires me for his bride, but not before he enslaves and tortures me, and sees my bravery through all the pain and strife!"

"Uh…sure. Right. And, by the way, I'm actually Donald Trump in disguise. I'm filthy rich, too, with a mansion by the California seashore. Come on, Thunder, or whatever your name is, shove out."

"I suppose YOU think that YOU are the Darling of Middle Earth!" Storm tossed her head again.

"Well, Sauron doesn't want to marry ME, so luckily I DON'T have that title," Adelaide replied dryly. "Don't know how a giant eyeball would manage to fuck you in the marriage bed anyway."

"You obviously know nothing of the world in which you live," the blonde said hotly. "For I am destined to live here forever, as the story repeats itself! There will come a time when I shall meet Sauron and Morgoth in the flesh, and they will find me even more desirable than Luthien Tinuviel, for I shall dance the Dance of the Seven Veils, thus rendering them from mighty warlords to slobbering, whimpering slaves! And I shall stand upon the heights of Mt. Doom and declare my power—"

"Hold on!" interrupted Adelaide. "Shut up before I barf all over the nice, clean floor. What do you mean, I know nothing about the world I live in? What the fuck do YOU know, you little twit?"

The blonde tossed her head again; the hair-thing really was beginning to grate on poor Adelaide's nerves. "You obviously feel that you have a rival in me, lady. If you wish, we can see which of us is the true Darling of Middle Earth."

"Look, that title doesn't even exist!"

"Are you prepared to face me, Lady Edessa?"

"Will you quit talking like that? Holy shit, I think my eardrum is about to pop!"

"Tell me what you can do," Storm said loftily, in a voice as hard as nails and soft as flowers (an oxymoron which made no sense to Adelaide). The young woman's nose twitched angrily.

"I aced Biology in tenth grade, which is undoubtedly the grade you're in right now."

"I? No, no, no…I was so incredibly smart that I was sent by my guardians to Harvard, where I am studying languages. I'm fluent in French, Russian, German, Arabic, Spanish, Japanese, Chinese, Italian, Porteguese, Australian, and various tongues of the African tribes. I also know Elvish."

"Well, I can sing in half those languages."

"I was invited to sing the lead at La Scala," the blonde sniffed triumphantly. "You're just a chorus girl."

Adelaide gritted her teeth. "Yeah? Bet you sound like Alvin the Chipmunk. Let's hear the music, Callas."

Storm opened her mouth, and immediately an unearthly sound soared from her lips and lifted high above the rafters of the Golden Hall, piercing beyond and lifting high, high, high upward to the very thrones of the Valar, who hadn't heard such lovely singing since the days of Luthien, and such music brought joy to their faces and tears to their eyes, and even Morgoth stopped his war-rampaging to listen to the sweet, pure, unaffected, crystal-clear—

"AWRIGHT, AWRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Adelaide stormed. She thought for a minute. "Bet you're a world-class chef, too, huh?"

"I can cook and bake anything in the world. My mushroom-pot-pies are especially favored."

"HEY! I invented that recipe, you thief!"

"But you didn't think to copyright it, did you? Oh Adelaide, you're always forgetting to do things. I feel so sorry for you. You love to play and sing and have fun, but you're always forgetting things, and I'm afraid that a girl who is all play and no business is VERY unattractive to men!"

Adelaide turned around to Eowyn. "Does this bitch have any clue what I do?"

"I don't think so," Eowyn ventured. "She's only seventeen, and she lives in a perfect dream-world."

"Huh, well, Middle Earth is NOT a playground," Adelaide chuckled, and turned back to the girl. "Listen, honey, you may THINK you're perfect, but you're pretty flawed if you don't know that men get pretty damned annoyed with constant perfection. It's not down-to-earth, you know? Men want flesh-and-blood women, not angels."

"And you think I am only an angel?" purred the blonde in a devious, throaty purr. "I give good head," she announced publicly. Eomer gave a very high-pitched squeak, and Eowyn slugged him outside the head. "I also enjoy being very…naughty. You've not yet seen the devil I can be."

"So you like to go back and forth between devil and angel. Neither are human." Adelaide shook her head. "Oh, you, Mary Sue! You must have a very, VERY difficult time keeping up all those different facades! Warrior woman one minute, angel the next, demon after…why switch all the time to keep your lovers happy? You're nothing but a brown-noser."

"Excuse me? A brown-noser? You don't even bother trying to please anyone!" shouted Storm. "You could care less about poor Legolas or Frodo or Aragorn or Gandalf…you just do whatever pleases YOU, you selfish bitch!"

Adelaide laughed. "Oooho! Look what I did…I got the Mary Sue to swear! She probably never did before! Look, honey, go back to school and learn a little about real life before you decide to take a trip down fantasy lane. Real Original Characters (that's ROC, in case you were wondering, honey) have flaws. God knows I've got tons of 'em, but in case you didn't know, Frodo loves me despite my flaws, and that's real, honest-to-goodness love."

"But it's not PERFECT."

"Life isn't perfect, sweetheart; that's what you've got to get through your head. Besides, Middle Earth isn't what we figured in America, at all. Did you know that Aragorn has a favorite joke?"

The blonde stopped dead.

"Didja know that Legolas used to have a puppy?"

The Mary-Sue shuffled her feet.

"Didja know that Pippin actually likes to swim?"

Storm looked baffled.

"Didja know that Gandalf cheats when he plays cards! Bet you don't know that Eomer can do a mean tango…or that the Eagles like their heads rubbed! Bet you don't know what it's like to be the only female in the Shire with a menstrual cycle! Bet you don't know that Gollum likes watching butterflies! I'll bet you don't even know who Shelob's first husband was!"

The Fairest Descendent of Luthien was struck dumb.

"AND I _**KNOW**_ YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING CLUE ABOUT LABOR PAINS, YOU TWO-BIT TEENAGE BITCH! DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT GIVING BIRTH TO WARRIORS AND PRINCESSES! IT'S HARD ENOUGH TRYING TO GIVE BIRTH TO A HUMAN BEING!"

BLIP!

"Hey!" Eomer cried in disbelief. "Where'd she go? And why is there a puddle of drool at my feet?"

Eowyn laughed and handed him a mop. While the befuddled leader of the Rohirrim cleaned up the results of serious male hormones, Adelaide and Eowyn attended to King Theoden, who had pitched forward in the throne. "Thank Eru," he muttered. "My dreams got unaccountably darker, and I thought for a minute that Sauruman had returned. What happened?"

"We had a run-in with an outsider, uncle, but it's all over now. No need to fret!" Eowyn smiled happily. "Thank goodness, she's gone, Addy! But…er…what IS Aragorn's favorite joke?"

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?"

"Boo."

"Boo-hoo?"

"Quit crying about it. Gets him every time."


End file.
